honestly, it's hard to think straight whenever yoongi keeps touching him like that. before, jungkook would have been embarrassed about it. even a matter of a couple of months ago, he likely would have felt stupid, pathetic, ridiculous, any of those things. right now, he definitely doesn't feel like that. not when he's been hard for hours now, when he already spent an hour following yoongi's every instruction over a video call, edging himself even after that because apparently he's even more of a fucking masochist than he ever thought. right now, yoongi's fingers feel like heaven and torture all at the same time. they feel good, so good, good enough that jungkook is sure that if yoongi wanted him to, if he used that voice to coax him to, to tell him to, he could cum just like this.

he won't, though. because jungkook is good. because he's been so good all day, all week, and the last thing he's going to do is fuck up his chance to get rewarded for it at all by giving in now. especially not when yoongi is saying what he is, responding that way, leading jungkook to think that maybe he's considering. maybe.

he's sensitive to the friction, the rough drag of fabric over the head of his cock with every slide of yoongi's thumb. it pulls a shiver down his spine, and he can't help but lean in against yoongi a little, just for the extra help supporting himself because if he keeps it up, the way yoongi touches him is going to make him weak in the knees.

"i did well in my classes this week.. and everything else you asked me to," he responds, just stating facts, careful. "was i a good boy, daddy?"